


Ask and ye shall receive

by DryDreams



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: First Time, M/M, They’re so in love it’s gross, Trans Martin Blackwood, and Jon is ace yes, in a universe where there’s a happy ending, taking some wild liberties with Jon’s mind reading thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22031389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DryDreams/pseuds/DryDreams
Summary: “Please tell me, love.” Jon begins. The words crackle with the compelling and Martin’s breath catches in his throat. “What do you want me to do to you?”Martin knows that he would answer even if he were not compelled to. Jon had asked so sweetly.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 70
Kudos: 617





	Ask and ye shall receive

They were dancing. There wasn't any music playing, but Jon had held out a hand and Martin had taken it, let himself be pulled close. Then they had simply… started swaying, Jon with his head resting tiredly on Martin’s shoulder. 

Now Martin is watching their shadows dance on the wall behind them, rubbing absentmindedly at one of the small raised scars on Jon’s hand. 

_So this is love,_ he thinks briefly and it makes something glow inside him. After everything, the universe allowed him love. 

Jon’s hand shifts from where it had been resting on Martin’s hip, sliding around to the small of his back. That’s all it takes; something about the way his hand skims across Martin’s skin, even through the fabric of his t-shirt. The sensation sends a messy warmth up his spine and he arches against Jon. Before he can help himself, he lets out a soft and decidedly wanting gasp. 

Jon goes still, and Martin worries that he’s made things uncomfortable. He knows Jon doesn’t want sex, he had made it clear fairly quickly that it just isn’t something he did. If Martin is being perfectly honest, he isn’t too excited about it either most of the time for various reasons entirely unrelated to Jon.

Sometimes, though… sometimes Jon touches him and his body _sings;_ sometimes he really does _want._ No one has ever made him feel this way before, no one but Jon.

And Jon isn’t as easy to hide things from anymore. Martin knows he sees through him quite clearly. 

“Martin.” Jon says simply, muffled against Martin’s shoulder.

Martin bites his lip. “I’m sorry, Jon, I didn’t— I mean, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, I’m …  
This is really nice. I hope I’ve not ruined it.”

Jon picks his head up then, eyebrows furrowed, and studies Martin for a moment. Their fingers are still intertwined, and Martin squeezes gently. “Don’t be sorry,” Jon says at last. “I didn’t realize… I didn’t _see,_ I should have…”

Before Martin can open his mouth to offer more apologies, to say _don’t worry about it, please,_ Jon asks. “Do you want more?”

Martin flushes red as he realizes the question is not just a question and that he’s going to tell the truth, contrary to what he’d wanted to do.

“Sometimes.” He says. Then, a bit panicked but still truthfully; “But I don’t need it, really I don’t. I absolutely am overjoyed with this, Jon, please don’t feel like you have to do—“

Having learned by now that it’s the most effective way to get Martin to stop babbling, Jon kisses him. With a soft _oomf,_ Martin’s eyes flutter closed and he takes a breath through his nose. Jon kisses soft and sweet and certain. _Calm. He’s still gonna love you._

When Jon pulls away, he pointedly looks Martin in the eye again. This tactic isn’t so much intimidating to Martin as it is to everyone else. It breaks down his walls in a different way, feeling seen. Seen by _Jon,_ who _wants_ to see him. 

“I’d really like to know what you want, Martin, I want to give it to you if I can.” Jon says earnestly, taking both Martin’s hands in his own now.

Martin feels shame twisting in his gut and he looks at the ground. He wants … something Jon surely doesn’t want, surely. The thought of anyone doing _that…_ to Martin… without enjoying it… the thought of Jon seeing him and not wanting what he sees, faking it instead. 

The thought makes him feel sick with anxiety. 

“Martin, I already see you.” Jon speaks softly and Martin’s eyes prick with tears. _Please don’t look,_ he thinks, embarrassed by his self-loathing. 

The way Jon tilts Martin’s face back up towards him is gentle. “That’s not at all how I think of you. Of course I want you. I could never not want you.”

Even despite the ache of longing in his chest that follows those words, Martin still doesn’t quite believe it. Whatever part of his brain has apparently been hoarding these anxieties does not want to believe it. He’s scared.

“I’m scared,” he says. 

“Of what?” 

He swallows thickly. The question held no power but he isn’t going to lie anymore. 

“I’m afraid to ask for more than you want because I’m afraid you’ll do something you don’t want to for me.”

Jon’s hand presses against the small of his back again, tugging Martin firmly against him. “I’ll ask, then.” 

The tight coil in Martin’s chest begins to unwind. He nods.

“Please tell me, love.” Jon begins. The words crackle with the compelling and Martin’s breath catches in his throat. “What do you want me to do to you?”

Martin knows that he would answer even if he were not compelled to. Jon had asked so sweetly. 

“I… want you to kiss me.”

That _is the truth._ Jon laughs lightly, knowing this is another copout but surely also seeing that the real answer is coming. So he kisses Martin, soft and wonderful and quick.

“What else?” He presses, voice rough.

“I want you to… touch me, everywhere and… kiss my neck and my… thighs, and…” Martin hesitates, still feeling like surely this would be too much, too far, too scandalous to say out loud.

He shivers and goes hot all over when Jon dips his head and begins to press perfect open mouthed kisses under his jaw. Jon has never kissed him there before. 

“And?” Jon murmurs. Martin can feel the crackling power in the single word against his skin. 

“Please,” he says, so quietly. “I want your mouth, your tongue… your head between my thighs, if you … if you want to. Please.”

Jon comes back to his lips, then. Takes his face in his hands and kisses him, whispers. “So polite, my Martin,” and kisses him more. 

When he pulls back, Martin looks at him woefully. “But you won’t be getting anything out of this.”

“Who says that?” Jon replies, running his fingers through the curls at the nape of Martin’s neck. “I am perfectly capable of enjoying you. And I am sure I will enjoy… turning you on?”

Martin blushes fiercely at that and presses his face into Jon’s shoulder. He burns where Jon’s mouth has been. “Well you’ve certainly done that already. You’re sure you want—“

“Oh, Martin.” Jon kisses the top of his head. “You’re the most lovely thing I’ve ever seen. Inside and out. I want very badly to do this for you, and any affection I express will be genuine, I assure you.”

Shaking his head, Martin looks up at Jon and smiles wryly. “You do know that’s a bit creepy, right?”

Jon frowns, puzzled. “What’s creepy?”

Martin bites his lip to contain his grin. “Reminding me that you can see my…” He makes quotation marks in the air. _“Insides.”_

Embarrassed, Jon blushes. “Sorry,” he says simply, but Martin hadn’t really minded. This was normal Jon behavior, saying cryptic and unsettling things when attempting to be thoughtful. So Martin just kisses him yet again, cupping the back of his neck to pull him in.

“That’s alright, I love you anyways,” he says brightly when he pulls back. Jon eyes him solemnly.

“I love you too, Martin,” he says very seriously, as if he is being extra sure that Martin is aware of this fact. “Will you let me do this? I promise you, I want to.”

After the briefest hesitation, Martin nods. Jon looks relieved and excited, which encourages Martin significantly. He’s trembling now, very slightly. Jon was going to … Jon _wanted_ to ...

“Will you …” Jon begins and then pauses. “Show me how?” 

Martin gapes at him for a second. He hadn’t considered…

“Do you not know … how … ” he trails off, not knowing what on earth to say. Jon’s eyes widen in realization.

“Oh God, no, no— I know the fundamentals just fine, of course. I mean, I’ve never _done_ it before, but… you know, _you_. It’s not like I know my way,” he makes what might be an attempt at a lewd gesture. “Around _you.”_

Martin lets out his held breath. “Ah. Right. Won’t you… be able to see? If you’re doing it right, I mean.”

“It’s much better if you tell me though, don’t you think?”

Before Martin can tease Jon about his relentless press for more information, there’s a hand slipping under his shirt and Jon is mouthing at his neck again.

_”Oh,”_ Martin breathes out, staring at their shadows again as he fizzes like a shaken soda. He’d made contented peace with the fact that he’d never get this from Jon, and now here he is. It feels like it might be a dream until Jon drags his fingernails lightly up Martin’s spine and he shivers violently, hand fisting in Jon’s hair. 

Jon simply hums, in that way he does when he’s filing information away for later. When Martin considers asking very politely for a hickie or two, he hums again like he’s heard. So skillfully that Martin wonders for a moment if he’d done it before, Jon gives him one— gives it _good_ , with a bruising pain that makes Martin moan softly. 

_“Ah,_ Jon—“ 

Jon pulls back abruptly and his cheeks are flushed now and it makes Martin’s knees weak. 

“Do you want to go to bed?” He asks, sounding unsure of himself and Martin says yes faster than he’s ever said yes. 

With no fanfare whatsoever, they go to bed. Martin sits on the edge of the mattress and Jon stands in front of him, looking down at him in obvious contemplation. Martin envies him for just a moment, then, wishing he could see what Jon was thinking the way Jon could see him.

He does, however, have the power of a question and while it may not hold any magic, he knows Jon will answer.

“What are you thinking?”

Jon scrunches his nose. “Just debating if I want to carry out my next move or not.” He says, and Martin tilts his head in confusion.

“What? What is your—“

Before he can finish his question, Jon is climbing onto his lap and effectively stealing every thought from his brain other than _Jon, lap, oh God._

With a pleased hum, Jon settles in his new spot, wrapping his arms around Martin’s neck. “A good decision, I think,” he says as if he’s made a clever move in chess and oh, but he has. 

Instinctively Martin’s hands go to Jon’s waist, just holding on for dear life. “Can I kiss you, too?” He fumbles as he asks. “I mean, other than… on the mouth?”

Fairly quickly, Jon nods and Martin finds his mouth is actually watering as he reverently dips his head to kiss at the hollow of Jon’s throat. When Jon makes a lovely sighing sound, Martin happily continues, trailing kisses up to his jaw. 

“I rather like that,” Jon murmurs. “You should do it more.”

For a moment Martin feels so happy he thinks he might cry. When he looks at Jon again, he can hear his heart beating in his ears. 

“Can you see how gorgeous I think you are?” He asks, softly and Jon blinks at him. 

For a moment Jon’s eyebrows furrow like he’s actively looking. Then his pupils blow wide and his lips part as he gasps.

Martin’s heart skips a beat. 

“Jon?”

“I felt it,” Jon replies. Then; “You really feel this way about _me?”_ He asks, looking entirely baffled.

“What, like you didn’t know?” Martin teases. 

“Feels different this time,” Jon murmurs.

“Well, I’m proper horny for you right now, so maybe that’s why.”

Jon quirks a smile. “I think I envy you, then.” Without giving Martin a chance to reply, he continues. “Should you take your clothes off now?”

Considering how normal it was for them to be less than fully clothed around each other, this suggestion should not have started Martin trembling again. But here he is. Jon frowns at this, cupping Martin’s face in his hands. 

“Are you alright?” Jon asks and Martin bites his lip, nodding.

“I’m just… you make me feel. Incredible.” 

“Oh.” Jon breathes. 

They pause for a second, spellbound before Martin speaks again. “Unfortunately I’ll need some space to take off my pants.”

Jon actually pouts a bit, which is cute. Then he climbs off. 

As Martin tugs off his shirt and trousers, Jon climbs onto the bed and sits cross legged, waiting patiently. The feeling of his eyes on the back of Martin’s neck has become a comfort, and Martin smiles to himself. 

When he’s finished he feels hands sliding up his sides and shivers as Jon presses a kiss to the top of his spine. “Why’ve we never done any of this before?” He muses. 

Jon hums. “I don’t know. I didn’t really think about it. I suppose I was simply content feeling safe in your arms.”

Martin takes in a shuddering breath. “You do?”

“Somehow, yes. One of the only places I do. But this…” he kisses Martin’s shoulder. “Is very nice.”

“Mm. Really nice.”

Then Jon slides his fingers into Martin’s hair and tugs gently. “Come on then. I want to hear you make lovely noises.”

Something in between a moan and a whimper escapes Martin’s throat and his back arches. Jon laughs. “Yes, like that.”

Martin shakes his head as he turns around, Jon crawling backwards to make room on the bed. “For someone who’s never done this before, you sure are doing a cracking job.” He remarks and Jon grins.

“I’ve barely done anything to you. Maybe you’re just easy,” he shoots back and Martin blushes.

“Maybe.” He admits. “For you.”

After some awkward maneuvering, Martin ends up propped on their mass of pillows with Jon perched on his lap again, looking down and deliberating. 

“I thought I was easy,” Martin goads. “Why are you puzzling so much.”

Jon gives him a withering look. “Either let me puzzle, or use your words.”

“Just touch me, Jon. Anywhere.”

Both of them gasp when Jon touches him; palms him boldly and finds him so wet that his briefs are more than damp. “Good Lord, Martin.” Jon whispers reverently. Martin just whines. 

“I’m going to take these off,” Jon says, tugging at the waistband and Martin nods fervently, lifting his hips when Jon scoots back and brings the briefs with him. Already his breath is coming in short bursts as Jon leans forward, kissing above his navel. 

He can’t see through Jon’s head but he feels fingers slide against him. Again he trembles, and Jon puts a steady hand on his thigh. 

“I see what you want, Martin. Tell me.”

Martin squeezes his eyes shut and gently grabs at Jon’s hair. “Please give me your fingers, Jon.”

After a hint of clumsiness, Jon gently slides in one finger. Then after a moment of Martin loudly thinking, slides it out again and replaces it with two. 

Martin is seeing stars. It’s not that this feels particularly mind-blowing or anything, Jon has barely moved but he’s… Jon is _inside him._

“Jon,” Martin croaks and rolls his hips, pushing against his hand. 

“Yes?” Jon responds, rubbing against Martin’s insides searchingly, making him ache in the best way.

“Love you— _ah, right there,”_

Jon smiles a small proud smile to himself and repeats the motion. Martin jerks and whines quietly. 

“I love you too.” 

When Jon dips down and kisses the inside of Martin’s thigh, he entirely melts, wordless. “Are you gonna be able to handle it if I put my mouth on you, dear?” Jon teases, muffled against Martin’s skin. All Martin can do is moan helplessly. 

“Well I’ll take that as a no,” Jon mutters affectionately and then there’s hot breath and his tongue is a warm, wet reality against Martin’s dick. 

The sound Martin makes is frankly embarrassing, and his fingers tighten in Jon’s hair. When Jon closes his mouth and _hums_ again, Martin’s hips jerk. Warmth spreads through him and his whole body thrums. 

Jon never really does anything ... enthusiastically, per say, but he does do things with laser focus and attention to detail. Taking Martin apart is no different, turns out. 

_Feels so good, Jon, you’re doing so good,_ he thinks pointedly after a while, after managing to have coherent thoughts again. Jon makes a small, soft groan in response to Martin’s loud thinking, glancing up at him with heavy lidded eyes. He pushes himself up on an elbow and Martin watches, mesmerized as a strand of saliva stretches from his bottom lip and then breaks. 

“That doesn’t count as using your words, Martin,” Jon says and his critical tone makes Martin shiver with want. Jon knows _exactly_ what he does to Martin; he may not have yesterday but he certainly does now. 

Martin opens his mouth but finds himself unable to speak, face hot once again at the concept of actually saying anything. Raising an eyebrow, Jon drags the back of his hand over his mouth. For a moment, Martin thinks that he’s going to comment on the absurdity of the hesitation. By all accounts what they’re doing is just as lewd as whatever Martin could say so why can’t he just _say it._

Lucky for him, his boyfriend has fucking mind control powers. 

“Martin,” Jon says sweetly. “How do you feel?”

His guard is entirely down, and Jon’s eyes burn and it all comes tumbling out. 

“I feel like I’m on fire, in the best way Jon I’ve never felt so good, you make me feel so good, I mean all the time but _your mouth,_ your hands, _God,_ you people talk about ascending, this is— _nnggg“_ As if he’s pressed play on one of his tapes and then just let it go, Jon casually returns to the task at hand. Martin carries on, like a body caught in a riptide. 

It isn’t until he’s beginning to tumble quickly toward his peak that Jon interrupts his babbling, pulling away again. Martin stops short and sobs at the loss, lifting his hips off the bed. Jon puts a firm hand on him and pushes him back down. 

“What do you want?”

He practically wails it. “I want you to make me come, _please.”_

With a final, happy hum, Jon does exactly that. Martin sees fireworks and feels a thousand eyes on him and knows that they _love him._

When he blinks open his own eyes, it feels like he’s waking up from a dream. But he isn’t, because Jon is there, crawling on top of him and kissing him hard. Wrapping his arms around Jon’s waist, Martin kisses back, kisses his lips and his cheeks and his closed eyes and his forehead, right in the middle. 

“Good?” Jon asks softly. Martin laughs. He feels so good, warm and tired in the best way. Absolutely entirely in love. 

“Are you kidding? I mean, you know the answer. But seriously?”

Confident, commanding Jon has gone back where he came from and he’s blushing now, looking away. “I’d… just like—“

“To hear me say it, I know,” Martin finishes. With a little effort he sits up, taking Jon with him. Oddly enough, the fact that Jon is still fully clothed is mildly comforting. Cozy. He buries his face into Jon’s shoulder, kissing his neck. “Haven’t I given a good enough statement already, Archivist?” 

“It wasn’t a _statement,_ Martin, I—“ he pauses and then laughs dryly. “Oh. You’re joking.”

“Yeah.” Martin kisses his cheek. “It was really good, Jon. Perfect. Thank you.”

“Thank you for letting me.” Jon noses at Martin’s temple. “You were lovely.”

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all I am infatuated with these two. I had this super horny idea and then it just turned to mush, sappy gooey mush. It’s what they deserve.
> 
> Hope u liked it pls come yell with me @squeebop


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